


Armor, Satin, Silk

by roxaneros



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Cunnilingus, Dildos, F/M, Lingerie, Marianne getting a little crest of the beast-y, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:14:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29786292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roxaneros/pseuds/roxaneros
Summary: In Faerghus, it was traditional for wives to give their husbands armor. Marianne makes her husband a different sort of gift.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Marianne von Edmund
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35
Collections: Bottomitri Weekend





	Armor, Satin, Silk

By the time that the dancing was beginning in earnest, Marianne could see that Dimitri’s smiles were fading. He was trying, of course, laughing at Sylvain’s jokes and forcing himself to swallow when Annette refilled his cup, but the strain showed in his shoulders and jaw and the darkness building behind that remaining eye. 

“Shall we retire?” Marianne whispered when they had a moment, Annette having accepted a dance from a stammering and thoroughly embarrassed Felix, and Sylvain proclaiming that he wouldn’t miss a chance to spectate for anything in the world. 

“It’s still an hour until midnight,” Dimitri replied, shaking his head. “There are so many people I’ve barely had time to speak with…” 

“Dimitri,” Marianne reminded him quietly. “It’s a party for your birthday. This is meant to celebrate you, not to be a burden.” 

Dimitri sighed, lowering his face as though he was conceding in defeat. 

“I am finding it… difficult,” he confessed softly. “To appear happy in front of so many people, to reassure them. It is hard for me to imagine that I could deserve something like this.”

“I know,” Marianne nodded. “Shall we retire? I have one more gift for you.” 

Faerghus traditions were still strange to her and many of them seemed unnecessarily hard. She had been raised in the Alliance, where grain grew plentifully and wars happened far away in distant mountain ranges. 

Apparently, the usual gift from a queen to a king in Faerghus was a helm or a shield. Armor was considered romantic. 

Marianne had presented Dimitri with a hauberk of Duscur crafted steel before the court that morning, but it hadn’t felt right. Of course she wanted to keep him safe, but Dimitri had enough armor. That was all he ever seemed to wear, in fact. 

Trumpets sounded as they descended from the royal table and said quick goodnights to their friends. In all honesty, as much as she still found herself breathless with happiness sometimes at the sight of so many people who had become dear to her, willing to keep company with her, it also tired her quickly. 

She knew that Dimitri often felt the same, overwhelmed by the love of his companions, and yet unwilling to allow himself a short retreat to a peaceful part of the gardens or a long ride in the parks around the castle for fear of seeming ungrateful. 

When they returned to the royal apartments, finally alone and away from curious eyes, Dimitri let his guard down. He rubbed at his forehead and she gently pressed her head into his back, wrapping her arms around his waist. 

“I find myself very tired,” Dimitri mumbled, unbuttoning his overcoat with slightly clumsy fingers. “But I do not think I am of the right mind to try to sleep right away.”

“I’ll draw you a bath,” Marianne nodded. 

Once he was soaking, relaxed in their tub with his head tipped back into a towel she’d folded for him, Marianne went to fetch her gift. 

She had spent a lot of time alone as a girl and thus she had plenty of time to practice her needlework. Many long afternoons at her father’s house had been spent embroidering at her sampler, and many evenings at Garreg Mach, she had labored over mending. She had never been particularly talented or neat with her work, but she had hours of practice to make up for the deficit. 

And with this gift, she had wanted to spend the time, to make every detail right. Mercedes had helped her with the lacework, although Marianne had been careful not to show her the full garments. 

Dimitri was a private man. Even with her, he kept so much of himself very closely guarded. 

She understood. It was no fault. Marinane knew exactly how it felt to want to protect the people you love from the ugliness inside.

But for Dimitri, she needed him to know that what she found when she looked beneath the guise of kingly self-assurance, it was beautiful. It was delicate. It was without fault.

“I’ve laid your nightclothes out on the bed,” Marianne called as she heard Dimitri step out from the bath. He emerged a moment later, wearing his robe and looking more relaxed despite himself. His golden hair tumbled down to his shoulders and he had removed the dark patch over his scarred eye.

When he looked down at the bed, he froze. His eye went wide and she saw a brief flash of anxiety cross his expression. 

“These are for me?” he asked. 

Marianne blushed and nodded. 

“Unless you don’t like them,” she hurried to add. Perhaps this had all been a terrible misjudgement. “I won’t be offended. I just thought… I thought you might like them.”

Dimitri looked down at the garments she had laid out for him. Hesitantly, his fingers traced the lace and silk. He looked conflicted. There was a dark flush on his cheeks and she watched him bite his bottom lip. 

“They are beautiful,” he said quietly, pulling his hand back. “I couldn’t… I don’t want to ruin them.” 

“Dimitri,” Marianne said, “my love, you will not ruin them. I made them for you. To… to use however you would like.” 

Dimitri gave her a pained smile. He looked nervous, and yet there was clearly some interest apparent in the way that he could not stop admiring her work. 

“May I… may I have a moment of privacy?” he asked, clearing his throat a few times.

“Of course,” Marianne nodded at once. She stepped out to the parlor, heart pounding in her chest. Despite the long evening, she found herself pacing the floors, waiting for Dimitri to call her back, wondering how she would find him… 

“You may…” Dimitri took a deep breath. “Come in, please, my beloved.”

Slowly, Marianne stepped back into their bed chamber. 

Her husband lay on their bed, one of the furs pulled modestly over his lap. Even so, she could see the lace stockings covering his legs to the middle of his thighs. She had chosen black for the lace. The contrast between the golden skin of his well-muscled thighs and the intricate lace which stretched over them was mesmerizing. 

And then further up, she saw the cinch at his waist, a ribbon of blue silk surrounded by more lace. His generous chest was cupped in intricate lines of satin blue and covered in a gauzy delicate net. 

Beneath, Marianne could still make out the extensive network of scars that covered his body, but now they were only additions to a beautiful and complex pattern of loveliness that stretched across his skin. 

Marianne stood and stared. Dimitri shifted slightly and turned his head to the side. He was so red, the blush was even spreading down his neck. 

“I look ridiculous,” he finally whispered. “A monstrous parody. I should never have-” 

“You look…” Marianne drew a quick breath. “Beautiful.” 

She walked to the bed and slid onto the side of it. Dimitri released a quick sigh through his nose as she leaned down and pressed a kiss to the side of his face. 

“May I touch?” she asked gently, trying to hide some of her greed. 

“Of course,” Dimitri said stiffly, “this is your… craftsmanship.”

Marianne ran her hands up the stockings, feeling Dimitri’s muscles twitch beneath her caress. She gripped the swell of his pectorals in her hands before trailing down, toying with the ribbon at his waist. 

Very slightly, she felt Dimitri responding despite himself. He shivered and leaned into her. 

Marianne reached down and shifted the fur aside. His panties were blue satin, fringed with more lace. The thin material slid gently against the outline of his cock, already half-hard. His balls were heavy and tight against the straining fabric. Marianne smiled slightly. He did enjoy the gift, then, perhaps more than he was willing to say. 

As she looked at him, shifting slightly under her hungry gaze, she felt the beast rising up within her. But with Dimitri, she did not fear it quite so much. 

With Dimitri, she had learned to love even that part of herself. If that terrible, animal part of her could bring him such satisfaction then she would treasure it. 

Marianne lowered herself onto the bed in front of him and nuzzled against the silken front of his panties. Dimitri made a strained sound in his throat. She breathed against the fabric, considering for a moment if she would take him into her mouth. Instead, she tilted her head and licked up the narrow stirp of exposed skin between the top of his stockings and the panties. 

Dimitri threw his head back and gasped as she sank her teeth into him. Her canines were sharper than average, but she was careful not to break the skin. 

“You look so lovely,” Marianne murmured against his leg. “So delicate, Dimitri, I want to have you just like this.” 

“I-” Dimitri gasped. He was hardening against the silk and she suspected that the sensation was as delicious as his face showed it to be. “Please, Marianne, my love, please.” 

Marianne pushed herself up and on top of him. She felt his chest heaving, his massive thighs rising up to squeeze around her. She kissed him fiercely, biting at his bottom lip and sucking down the side of his neck. 

She felt him grinding his hips and she reached a hand down to cup him through the cloth. His cock was fully hard now, wetting the fabric slightly as the head strained against the band and poked free. 

“Beautiful boy,” Mariannne whispered, leaned back and stopping to admire the view again. 

Dimitri threw up an arm over his face, apparently unable to look at her. His body was flushed and straining against the fabric. His cock twitched within the sheer panties, leaving a faint shining stain on the front. Marianne traced the head with one curious finger and was rewarded with a little moan as she collected some of the moisture beading at his slit. 

“How long have you wanted this?” she whispered, feeling that animal desire roaring inside of her. All of Dimitri’s usual reservation and timid humility faded away. “How long have you dreamed of wrapping yourself up so prettily for me?” 

“A long time,” Dimitri admitted.

“You bought me that gorgeous nightgown last year,” Marianne reminded him, fingers skimming down his stomach and playing with the ribbon again. “I remember how you looked at it. Such longing. Such admiration. Not just for me, but for the elegance. Ever since then, I wanted to make you feel just as lovely.”

“Marianne,” Dimitri moaned, rolling his hips up, He grabbed her thighs, pulling her forward and hiking up her skirts. 

This wasn’t entirely part of the plan, but Marianne could not say no to allowing Dimitri to indulge in his favorite pleasure. She tugged the slip over her head and settled herself back, facing away so that she could see the rest of his body as he ate her out. 

His tongue met her clit and she felt her whole body shudder. He held her over his face firmly, licking her and sucking at her pussy like he was starving for it. Marianne felt herself dripping onto his chin and her thighs began to shake with the strain of supporting her weight. 

Watching the rise of his stomach, the slight shifting of the lace over his legs as they twitched, the shimmer of the candlelight across his silk wrapped cock was almost too much. Marianne could hardly keep herself still as she braced against his chest and drank in the view. 

When his tongue probed at her entrance, she gave in and came with a high pitched cry and a flood of wetness into his mouth. 

As the rush of pleasure faded, however, Marianne knew that she was not done. 

“Pull your panties down,” she commanded and enjoyed the simultaneous rush of shame and desire that Dimitri seemed to experience at the command. 

He wriggled them down his legs, the satin straining as it reached his knees. His cock bounced free, hard and eager against his stomach, rubbing against the rougher lace there. 

Marianne coated her fingers in oil from the table beside their bed and spread his legs wider. Dimitri shuddered as she breached his entrance. 

It had taken years of marriage before he would admit to enjoying this. There was a part of him that Marianne knew protested that he should be a different sort of lover to her. But she did not want a different lover. She wanted Dimitri. Sweet, beautiful Dimitri who allowed her in and who had never made her feel like a beast. 

There was something indescribable about the knowledge that this was her husband, spread out on her fingers, unable to resist smiling and groaning with pleasure as she opened him up. One of his hands had gone to caress his chest, trace the fabric and rub the soft ribbon between his fingers. 

Marianne withdrew one of the polished glass cocks she had acquired in a similarly discreet manner from her nightstand. It slipped inside of Dimitri with little resistance. 

She fucked it against him for a few minutes, watching him grind down against it desperately. With her other hand, she finally gripped his cock, stocking and then pumping it hard until his entire body arched and he came with a long whimper. 

White streaked across the black lace and silk on his chest, painting the delicate fabric with his cum. He sank back into the pillows when he was done, shaking slightly. Marianne gently pulled the panties back up, tucking him back inside even as oil seeped out from his hole. 

“Oh,” Dimitri said after a few minutes of catching his breath. He had opened his eye and was looking down at himself with distress. “Well... I did warn you that I would ruin them.” 

He smiled apologetically. Marianne leaned forward and kissed his forehead. 

“They were a gift,” she said with a smile, “to do with however you would. Although… if you are saying that you require another pair…?” 

Dimitri turned scarlet again. But he didn't say no. 

“I believe something in white might be lovely,” Marianne mused, laying down beside him. “Happiest of birthdays, my king. I hope to share in many more of your secret smiles to come.” 

Dimitri pulled his close and pressed his lips to the top of her hair. 

In Faerghus, it was traditional for wives to give their husbands armor. 

Well, her husband had plenty of iron and steel to cover his scars. She would weave him gossamer thread and clothe him in starlight and gemstones instead. 

  
  



End file.
